100 Years
by BebopSamurai
Summary: A series of SoixYoruichi drabbles for the Fanfic 100 writing challenge community on LJ. Rated M for safety, though various ratings are used. Prompt 3 up.
1. What Keeps You Up at Night

Title: What Keeps You Up At Night

Characters: Shihouin Yoruichi/Soi Fong

Prompt: #1: Beginnings

Rating: R for sexuality involving young Soi

Summary: No matter how Soi tries, the memory of her first time with Yoruichi-- and the feelings associated with it-- refuses to fade.

Author's Notes: 2nd Person perspective, yuri-- if you don't like then don't read. I don't own anything I write about.

* * *

You can't forget the first time.

You can't forget because sometimes, when you wake up in the middle of the night, your senses disheveled and the walls you build around yourself are not yet prepared for the coming day, it comes at you out of nowhere, like a splinter in your mind that refuses to heal.

You bury your head under the pillow of your futon, as if darkness can save you, block the memory from you. But even so it comes, unyielding.

You were younger then. Much younger, long before you became the ruler of everything SHE had only a fraction of control over. You still wore the uniform of the Onmitsu Kidoh, still lived to walk by her side, still nurtured your simple dream of living your whole life for her, protecting your Goddess from the shadows until age subdued you or death took you.

Back then you held no illusions that your feelings would be returned. They were yours to keep to yourself, to hide like you would amongst the foliage when the princesses' fancies wandered towards a game of hide-and-seek.

But no matter how well-hid you were, she always found you. She always saw through you.

You remember the very day as clearly as if you were still there. Which is fitting, because in so many ways you're still lying on that bed, under those covers, reaching out for a warm body that's no longer beside yours.

It was a humid day-- unusual for Soul Society-- especially since it was the sort that hangs overhead like an omen, weighing down on all brave enough to venture out of their comfortable homes.

You were by her then as dusk fell, watching her intently as usual, wanting to mention the far-off look in her eye but not daring to offend her with your impertinent questions. You remember the look suddenly disappearing as her attention turned to you, changing inperceptibly into a strange, warm, inviting sort of gaze. Suddenly her hand is skimming the curve of your neck, at the base of your head in a way that you could only describe as 'tender,' though you yourself are not familiar with it. Nor with the sudden explosion of butterflies bumping and flying in your stomach as she leans forward and plants those perfect lips directly on yours, a hand that's moved to the small of your back holding you-- almost possessively-- in place.

But soon you don't care about that. You don't care that she's carrying you, like a prim and proper lady instead of a bodyguard, through the blur of pure white halls and into the dark and mysterious place you only knew 'til now as 'Yoruichi-sama's room." You don't care that it smells just like her-- sandalwood and sweat and the vaguest hints of rosewater-- scent isn't enough to cling to when she's right HERE, in front of you.

You don't care that her touch is a little rushed, her hands shaking slightly, the rending of your concealing uniform to shreds is done with as much effort as a child does to her favorite toy, and yet something that you don't understand fully lies behind it.

And you don't even care that she has you-- you, who believed yourself to be so much stronger than this-- panting and gasping and writhing with joy and clinging and clawing and screaming helplessly into her skin as you bite down on her neck, lust overwhelming your cleverly built illusion of self-control, loving the way she shivers just SLIGHTLY, just enough to let you know that at this moment all the titles and orders and classes in the world aren't worth a thing to her. She wants your touch just as much as you've ached for hers, and it's almost enough to make you break out in tears...if she hadn't increased her pace and made you sing her name like a master of the opera.

You're putty in her hands, even after the room is filled with the sounds of you both struggling to come down, to descend from the cloud you hadn't realized you were on.

Your mistake, you're certain with hindsight, was that you held her even after that, whispering those words you'd only spoken in dreams, to the cold and vacant darkness.

You're certain-- because less than a day later-- she was gone. As if nothing had ever happened, and as if you yourself were less than even that.

It occured to you suddenly how much of a fool you felt like. You were taken in, you assured yourself. She had used you, used your feelings to take advantage of another of her servants, which was of course all you were. Despite everything you were just another face in the sea of Onmitsu Kidoh members, and just as easily ignored. And so you buried away the questions, the feeling of abandonment, the overwhelming desire to run after her and drag her back, if only so you could force the truth from her mouth.

It's these things you take with you to sleep, to assure yourself that tomorrow you'll make her pay for what she's done to Soul Society.

But of course you still wake up in the night, hurting just as much as when the wounds were fresh, because of what she's done to YOU. Like that hot day she hangs over you, haunting your thoughts, and no matter how many lovers you've taken yourself not a single one can erase the ghost of her touch, the memory of that dark skin gliding against your own in an unintelligible tangle of limbs.

The only way you fall asleep anymore, after that rush of longing and loathing, is by telling yourself-- no matter the outcome-- that you will meet again.


	2. Sweet Spot

Title: Sweet Spot

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Shihouin Yoruichi/Soi Fong

Prompt: #2: Middles

Rating: PG-13 for suggestive material

Summary: Yoruichi loves Soi's belly button.

Author's Notes: Don't own jack. Yuri, so don't read if you don't like.

* * *

"You have such a cute belly button."

Soi Fong blinked at the sudden remark from Yoruichi, and turning to the older woman she hoped she didn't look too shocked.

"I-I'm sorry, Yoruichi-sama?"

"Oh, nothing," the dark-skinned former Commander said wistfully, a mischevious grin finding its way to her lips as she let a hand slide to her lover's stomach, hidden from view under her unremarkable white yukata. To her delight Soi tensed, almost unnoticeable to anyone else if they'd been watching, but Yoruichi knew better, and if anything the knowledge that she could still get Soi to tremble at her touch made her smile grow wider. "...I just mean that you have an absolutely adorable little belly button. You should show it off more-- it suits you."

"I...I doubt that's likely to happen," Soi managed as she tried to ignore the hand still fondling her, now sliding ever lower. "Besides, such frivilousness is--!" She paused, gasped as one of Yoruichi's fingers began circling the divot in her stomach, teasing it just enough to make the Chinese girl squirm.

"...Is what?" Yoruichi asked innocently, licking her lips as she slid Soi down to the tatami, deftly parting her robe and laying a kiss between her slight breasts at once. Soi didn't answer, but she did slide her hand into the older woman's hair,gently massaging her scalp as the Goddess's lips traveled downward. In spite of the assault her senses were taking, Soi was at least managing to stay fairly still, to keep her little noises of pleasure subdued. At least she did, until she felt Yoruichi nibble on the edge of her belly button.

The former princess hid a grin as Soi bucked, trembled at the touch, her taut stomach cascading like the surface of the ocean. Before an embarrassed Soi could attempt to move Yoruichi, she felt that rough tongue in the divot, both tickling and arousing her at the same time, and after a few moments of struggling to catch her breath she finally gave up, surrendering to the sensation that was making her body feel like it was on fire, the slow burn centering at the spot between her legs. Just as Soi thought she couldn't take anymore of Yoruichi's teasing and licking and kissing at that sensitive spot anymore the older woman stopped, looking up at her lover with a predatory grin.

"That's why I love your belly button so much," Yoruichi said with a sly grin as she promptly crawled over the girl and gave her a chaste kiss, followed by a sudden puff of smoke as she turned into her cat form and scampered off.

For a minute Soi couldn't move, a bit too frustrated at being so viciously teased and then not given any real satisfaction. But as she got up and promptly fixed her yukata, she wondered if there was any midriff-baring two-piece lingerie in Soul Society somewhere.


	3. Farewell, My Lovely

Title: Farewell, My Lovely

Characters: Shihouin Yoruichi/Soi Fong, slight Kisuke/Yoruichi

Prompt: #3: Ends

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: Kisuke returns from a funeral at Soul Society on Yoruichi's behalf.

Author's Notes: Set after the Arrancar War ends.

* * *

The owner of the Urahara Shoten heaved a sigh as he walked back inside his delapidated shop, locking the entrance shut behind him with one of the many keys he kept on a loop around his waist. Setting his trademark striped hat carelessly atop one of the shelved boxes lining the aisles Urahara continued through to the rear, slipping high-toed geta off his feet upon reaching the raised wood that led to his rather cramped home. He shook his black coat slightly, just enough to get the few raindrops he'd been unable to escape off him; glancing outside he was a bit relieved to see that the worst had yet to arrive.

"I'm back," he called to the dark building, unsure of who'd answer. Instead of a verbal response he caught the back of a familiar mane of black hair in the kitchen, its owner giving a slight wave but not turning around to acknowledge him. He wandered into the room, where Yoruichi was sitting at the small table with her back to him, a bottle of her favorite milk half-drained and a cup resting idly in her hand.

Kisuke wanted to berate her for drinking it so soon after he bought it-- in hopes of raising her spirits at least a little bit-- but decided against it. It was expensive, but at least it might raise her spirits a bit.

"...So... Where's Ururu and Jinta?"

"Tessai sent them to bed an hour ago."

The former Captain bit his lip lightly at the sudden, almost prepared answer he'd been given. Part of him wanted to just get to bed, avoid her for the rest of the day-- even, he considered darkly, the rest of his life-- but something else in him also knew that he couldn't avoid this, that she'd bring it up eventually.

"Oh, uh...Yama-jii talked to me afterwards-- said that I was free to come back for 'our efforts in the war...' and that since Second Division's open now and you've got enough experience, that you could just pick up the...Captain's...spot."

He could almost feel Yoruichi tense, almost sense her anger filling the room, but thankfully she didn't speak-- just drained her cup and poured more milk inside. He felt stupid for bringing it up. She hadn't said so, but he could tell she wouldn't be going back to Soul Society anyway. Not ever again.

"How was it?"

"Not much different than you'd expect... flowers, farewells, people in tears...all that," Kisuke answered as nonchalantly as he could.

"...And her?"

If Yoruichi could have heard her own voice, he was certain that she wouldn't have recognized it-- it maintained the pretense of indifference but underlying it was an all-too real layer of dread, of hesitation.

"Well... there wasn't really that much to bury, so... they cremated a few of her personal belongings. Same for the others who weren't afraid to die with a pretty corpse," he finished with an edge of bitterness. When Yoruichi didn't so much as flinch at his comment the ex-Shinigami bent down, craning his head to see his friend's face. He tried not to gasp, if only from the shock of seeing her in any state of dishevelment.

"Oh...I must look like hell, don't I?" Yoruichi whispered a bit sadly, the left side of her mouth cricking into a rather forced grin. Kisuke wasn't sure what to say-- there were dark bags under her eyes (which were a bit red and unfocused), and coupled with the sheer look of exhaustion on her features and the unkempt state of her normally well-groomed hair-- but of course to him she never seemed anything less than gorgeous. Seeing Yoruichi like this, over her though... it was a bit disquieting, he had to admit. "So...not even a grave, then."

"Well, apparently they're commemorating a statue in honor of everyone who's fallen in the course of the War. As a Captain she'll be right at the top of the--"

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT WHAT THOSE CHEAP BASTARDS ARE DOING TO 'HONOR' THEM! DO THEY REALLY THINK THAT A GODDAMN ROCK IS GOING TO BRING ANY OF THEM BACK-- THAT IT'LL BRING _HER_ BACK?!"

It took Yoruichi a moment to realize she'd yelled so furiously that Urahara had stepped back, that the hand encircling her glass of milk had gripped it so hard that there was now a slender fissure running down the face of the cup. She opened her mouth, intending to speak, but all she did was sigh and finish her drink in a single swig, her unoccupied palm now serving as a rest for her forehead.

"...I'm going to bed," the former princess muttered as she lifted herself up, grabbing the mostly-finished bottle of milk and tossing it unceremoniously into the small refrigerator.

"Wait," the blonde shopkeeper uttered as she passed him, making her halt impatiently in her tracks. He knew he was pushing his luck, that all she wanted right now was to curl up in bed and try to sleep everything away...but he didn't think he had the heart to sleep in the same room with what he had now anyway. "She had a will, and... well, it's not much, but I was asked to give this to you on her behalf."

Yoruichi felt her breath catch in her chest, her heart pound faster as she automatically, if a little fearfully, opened her palm. Somehow she'd known what was going into her hand when she'd felt the touch of cool silver, light in her palm; a pair of perfect metal rings. She tried to close her fingers around the last fragment of the girl that remained, tried to walk away without letting her mask fall. But as she held the rings tighter she felt her eyes itch, her breathing go shallow, felt the sobs wrack her whole body at once as she slumped to the floor, clutching her face as if it would keep the tears in.

"K-Kisuke, I..." she whispered, still trying so hard to keep herself from surrendering to her weeping that it stung at Urahara's heart just a bit, "...I-i-it's my fault... Oh God, it's all my f-fault..."

"Yoruichi-san," her friend said quietly as he made to put a hand on her shoulder, but restrained himself, "...Don't say that. She MADE that choice all on her own. And if you have to blame someone...don't forget I'm the one who got you out of there."

It was true. She HAD insisted she'd stay behind, had given him the rarest of respectful nods as she told him to get the bleeding Yoruichi as far away as he could. Even now he remembered the far-off look in the Second Division Captain's silver eyes. She had known that she wouldn't survive; Yoruichi, who'd struggled to get back as soon as she was coherent, must have felt it too. It had killed him to refuse to let her return because of those golden irises, filled with a fear that he'd never seen in her before. After the sky had lit up in the direction the Captain and her Vastrode enemy had been standing, Yoruichi had stopped fighting. There wasn't a point anymore.

"It...i-it IS my fault. If I'd have told her--"

"Yoruichi, STOP. She's gone." For a moment the once-proud Correction Corps Commander calmed, struggling to breathe air back into her lungs. But once she'd done so she finished her question.

"...If I'd t-told her... do you think she wouldn't have stayed?"

"No I don't, Yoruichi," Kisuke admitted after a moment. "...I think that she would have still done it. That girl, she... I don't think she ever needed you to love her back for her to do what she did. She WANTED to protect you, and she died doing that. So don't feel like it was your fault. S-she would have done it for you again if she could. I know it."

"But I..."

"I know...how you feel about her. And I know you must be hurting right now. But I PROMISE you that she died without any regrets."

Knowing that Kisuke was right-- as he so often was-- didn't help, didn't numb the ache in her heart that she knew she'd have to live with for the rest of her life. But when he finally placed a tentative hand on her shoulder Yoruichi took it, grateful for the small bit of comfort as her uncontrolled weeping echoed throughout the room.

He'd been the only one to hear her last words as he left, an unconscious Yoruichi draped over his shoulder.

_Take care of her. I'll come back for you if you don't._

He wasn't sure now that he could do that, but he'd be damned if he gave up.


End file.
